A Piece of Heaven (9 page)

I slumped down at the table and hid my face.

“I’ll give you a moment to pull yourself together,” she said. “Then we’ll pack some clothes. Don’t forget that your mother agrees that this is a good plan. There are other kids in the boarding home.”

“What kind of home is it?” I sniffed, lifting my head. I couldn’t believe it was happening! First Otis, then me! “How far away is it?” I whimpered.

“It’s a nice apartment in a building something like your own,” she explained. “It’s not far away at all. You’ll still be in your own neighborhood.” She patted my hand. “Hopefully, it’ll only be for a little while. Come now, get ready. Would you like for me to pack your stuff?”

I jerked up from the table. “Please don’t. I’ll do it myself.”

Ma had taken the suitcase, so I packed my things in my box. Once upon a time, I had imagined that Ma had slid into a well, but now I was the one sliding down. I was slipping on all the feelings I had inside. One minute I felt like crying, and the next minute I felt like hitting Terry over the head and breaking the walls down. I knew I should cooperate to please Ma, but I felt like locking myself in the closet and never coming back out. I slammed my
Grimms’
into the box with my pajamas. I rolled up Grandma Dora’s earrings in one of my socks. While Terry wrote something on a piece of paper from her notebook, I got my money out of the cookie jar and shoved it into my wallet. It was hard to think what to take; I wouldn’t be gone long, I told myself. I couldn’t be! Overalls, shirt, Monkey, the snake. I grabbed Otis’s toothbrush, forgetting my own. I also took my thesaurus, though a word had not yet been invented for the way that I felt.

I sat down on my bed, holding the box.

“Ready?” asked Terry.

“What about Nirvana and Mrs. Brown?” I choked. “They’ll be worried about me.”

“I’ll slip a note under their door and telephone Mrs. Brown later,” she promised. “Let’s go.”

I took a last look at my unmade bed, then at Ma’s bed and at Otis’s couch, at the tub, the table, and the crack in the ceiling. I didn’t cry. My tears were blocked up inside of me, because there were too many to let out.

Terry had told the truth. The boarding home wasn’t far away, located in a dull brown building. The apartment, which was on the first floor, was much larger than ours, but everything was a yellow that reminded me of mucus. Yellow curtains hung at the window. On the table was a yellow tablecloth, and on the beds were yellow spreads. The apartment had three rooms: a big kitchen with a table and chairs, and two bedrooms. I would be sharing a bedroom with two other girls, Yvonne and Maria, both of whom seemed younger than me. There was a woman, too, named Angela. When Terry introduced me to the three of them, I kept my eyes glued to the floor. Terry led me into the bedroom with my things, and the others followed us.

“In a while we’re going to the park for a softball game,” Yvonne, the littler girl, said. I guessed that she was about eight. “Do you like softball?”

I lay down on my bed and turned away. “Softball is for dorks,” I breathed softly.

“Did you say something?” asked Maria. She was chubby and the older of the two. I kept my lips glued.

“What’s
her
problem?” Maria asked Terry.

“Mahalia is tired,” said Terry. “Maybe we should let her rest for a while.”

“Yes, we’ll leave you alone for a bit,” Angela said quietly. Then the four of them trailed away.

I was tired, but I didn’t shut my eyes. How could Ma think this was better than my staying by myself or even sleeping at Mrs. Brown’s? Living in an apartment with yellow stuff and total strangers?

After about fifteen minutes or so, Angela and Terry came back into the room. Unlike Terry, who wore her gray hair in a bun, Angela wore her black hair in a long braid. She touched me softly on the back. “Would you like a snack? We’ve got chips and all kinds of good stuff.”

“I don’t want a snack,” I muttered, jerking away.

“How long will she be here?” Angela asked Terry.

“We’re not sure,” replied Terry.

I turned my head and glared. “I don’t like it when people talk about me as if I weren’t even here,” I said.

“Sorry,” said Angela. “Would you like us to leave you alone again?”

“Yes,” I snapped.

The two women tiptoed out. The apartment was deadly quiet. I guessed they’d decided to give me the silent treatment. I lay on my bed for what seemed like a hundred hours, trying not to be scared. I had never lived away from home. That’s one reason Ma had always wanted me to go to camp, so that I could have the experience.

Angela came back into the room, this time by herself. She smiled, but, thankfully, kept her distance. I didn’t like my back being touched by a stranger.

“Ready to come out now?” she asked. “Rayelle has taken the other girls for ice cream.”

“I thought they were going to play softball,” I said, peering up at her.

She nodded. “Then after that, they were going for ice cream.”

I turned my face to the wall and muffled my mouth with my fist. “Who’s this Rayelle person?” I grumbled.

Angela leaned closer, trying to understand me.

“Who is Rayelle?” I demanded in a louder voice.

“She’s the other woman who works here,” Angela explained. “Sometimes we have shifts together, and at other times we’re here alone with the girls.” I peeked at her face. Her eyes were kind.

“We like to think of ourselves as temporary mothers,” she told me.

Panic rose in my chest. I already had a mother!

“Where’s Terry?” I asked crossly.

“Terry had to leave,” said Angela. “She’ll be back tomorrow to check on you.”

“Does she live here?” I asked.

“No,” said Angela. She perched on the edge of the bed. “I know it must be confusing for you—all these new people.”

“I don’t care,” I said with a shrug.

“Why don’t you get up and stretch your legs?” she cajoled. “You’ll feel better if you do.”

I dragged myself out of bed and followed her into the kitchen. One of my legs had actually fallen asleep. I hopped around in front of the refrigerator. Yellow smiley faces were pasted all over it. “The kids in this place must come from sick homes,” I sniped.

“Why do you think that?” asked Angela.

“Because they’re happy to be here,” I said.

“You’re not, are you?”

“No, why should I be? I come from a great family.” A pain shot through my chest. “We just happen to be going through a rough spot. My brother got into trouble, but he’s not a bad guy. My mother is in the hospital, but any day she’ll be well.”

“I’m sure she will,” Angela said quietly. “I made some egg salad,” she said. “Would you like a sandwich?” She plopped the egg salad onto some bread.

“I don’t eat egg salad. It smells like farts.” I stared at the table. “Do you know what kinds of lunches they serve in jail?”

“I think they try to serve balanced meals,” Angela replied kindly. She poured me a glass of water. “Drink this.”

“I’m not thirsty.” I clamped my mouth and rolled my eyes.

“You’ll get dehydrated,” she persisted, “especially in this hot weather.”

“No.”

“So you refuse to eat or drink, then?”

“Yes,” I replied in defiance. “I’m on a hunger strike, and that includes water.”

“And what must I do in order for you to end the strike?” Angela asked in a serious tone.

“Let me out of here.”

“Sorry,” said Angela. “We can’t do that.”

“Then at least don’t bother me,” I said, turning toward the room where my bed was.

Yvonne and Maria burst into the apartment, giggling and clutching ice cream cones. I looked at them over my shoulder. An older woman in a dress covered with an autumn-leaf design was with them.

“This is Rayelle,” Angela said.

The leaf-dress woman smiled at me. “Hello, Mahalia.” “Hi,” I grunted, walking away.

“How is she?” I heard Rayelle ask.

“Pretty irritable,” Angela replied, talking about me as if I weren’t there.

“Want a lick of ice cream?” Yvonne asked, racing after me.

“Why would I want to eat that melted mess?” I snarled. “Look, it’s dripping all down your arms. You’re really a slob! Why don’t you smear some egg salad on top of it?”

“That’s not nice!” Yvonne whined, following me into the bedroom. “Did you hear what she said to me?” she called to Maria with a pout.

“Better watch your mouth,” Maria said, strutting into the room.

“Watch yours,” I shot back, “or I’ll get my brother to beat you up. He’s a big-time crook.” Both Maria and Yvonne backed off. I sat down on my bed.

Angela came into the room. “Would you like to speak with your mom?” she asked, sitting down next to me. “We could call her.”

“No, thanks,” I said. “She’ll only be crying.”

I lay down and curled up into a ball. When Angela left, I reached down into my box and pulled out Monkey. I stared at the wall while life in the apartment went on. Sounds of laughter came from the kitchen. I could hear Yvonne and Maria playing games. When I heard the clanging of pots and pans and the clatter of dishes, I knew it was dinnertime. My stomach rumbled, but I felt too upset to eat. Later on, Yvonne and Maria came into the bedroom and changed into their pajamas. Finally, I heard someone walking toward my bed.

“Time for lights-out. Don’t you want to change?” It didn’t sound like Angela, but I refused to look.

I pretended to be asleep, but I wasn’t. My heart ached. I missed Otis. And even though Ma had let them take me away, I missed her more than ever. I heard her voice in my ear.
Be cooperative, Haley.
I barely slept.

When morning came, I popped up and quietly crept into the kitchen. Angela was there, packing lunches.

“Good morning,” she said. “Feel any better?”

“A little,” I said politely. I looked down at my clothes. “I guess I got wrinkled.”

“Would you like to take a shower?” she asked. “There’s a lock on the bathroom door. You can shower and change in private in there.”

“Maybe later,” I said hesitantly.

She offered me a glass of orange juice. I took a gulp. She offered me a piece of toast and I gobbled it down.

“Rayelle said your mother called last night while you were asleep,” Angela told me. “Your mom didn’t want you to be awakened.”

My heart skipped a beat. I had missed Ma’s call!

“But I wasn’t asleep,” I protested. “Did you speak to her?”

She shook her head. “I had gone home already,” Angela explained. “Rayelle spent the night here.”

“Where is Rayelle now?” I asked curiously.

“She went home at six.” She went back to making lunches.

I began to pace. It was too early to call Ma at the hospital.
She probably just wanted to make sure I was being cooperative,
I thought. I wrinkled my nose at the smiley faces on the refrigerator. I glanced at Angela.

“Every time I see you, you’re making a sandwich,” I grumbled.

“Do you like jelly with your peanut butter?” she inquired.

“Sure,” I muttered. “But you don’t have to make me lunch.”

“Oh, you’ll need a lunch at the pool,” said Angela.

“What pool?”

“The neighborhood pool. There’s a program there. Kind of like a day camp. Yvonne and Maria love it. You’ll go there right after your physical.”

I blinked. “Physical?”

“Terry is going to take you to the clinic for a physical and then drop you off at the pool.”

“But I don’t need a physical.”

“Don’t worry,” she said, “no needles, just a routine checkup. It’s policy.”

“I can’t go,” I said.

“Why not?”

“I have a job,” I explained. “I have to go to work.”

“Nobody said anything about a job,” Angela said.

“Well, I have one,” I insisted, “and it’s very important.”

“I can’t permit you to go,” said Angela.

“My boss is depending on me,” I said hotly.

“Sorry,” she said.

I folded my arms across my chest. “I’m going, whether you like it or not.”

“Mind your attitude,” Angela said crisply. “You can’t go anywhere without our permission.” She threw some apples into the bags. “Where is this job, anyway?”

“In Queens,” I lied, narrowing my eyes. If she wasn’t going to let me go, what business was it of hers?

“That’s out of the question, then,” Angela said, glancing at the clock. “Have another piece of toast. I have to wake up Yvonne and Maria.” She turned her back and went into the bedroom. I opened the front door and walked out.

CHAPTER EIGHT

I bolted out of the apartment building and ran as fast as I could. The only thing I could do was run away. How could I stay with a dictator like Angela, who didn’t care if my life got wrecked? Didn’t she understand that everything I had, had been taken away? Ma, Otis, my apartment—and now she’d taken my job! If there was nothing left in my life, what was the point of staying in some boarding home? So that I could go swimming every day with a bunch of little brats? I was so mad I could hardly see straight. I ducked into a subway station. I needed a place to think. But it was so hot underground, I felt as if I might faint. Impulsively, I reached into my pocket for some change, bought a token at the booth, and bumped through the turnstile. A whistle blared, warning of the approaching train. A man standing next to me inched forward. If I got on the train, too, where would it take me? Only a few stops away was Port Authority, the big bus terminal. Buses left from the station for places all over the country. The subway screeched to a halt, and I rushed forward with the crowd as the doors yawned open and people pushed their way in or out of the train. Wiggling my way through, I stepped into the train and found a pole to hold on to. People squeezed in close to me on either side. I found it hard to breathe as we traveled toward 42nd Street. Lots of other people were getting off there, too. I let myself be pushed along by the crowd. Then I was out again, standing on the platform.

I followed the signs to the bus terminal. On the first floor of the terminal, there was a newsstand and a coffee shop and lots of lines for tickets and people everywhere! I even saw the man with no legs, riding around on a low platform. He was the same man that I’d seen crossing in front of Rivera’s. I waited for him to smile at me, but he didn’t look up. He just scooted himself along.

I selected a line to stand in. I wasn’t quite sure where I would go. I figured I might go as far as my money would take me. I smoothed my hair back with my hand and waited my turn. Then I was face to face with a woman behind the counter. She stared at me.

“May I help you?”

“How much does one ticket cost?” I asked timidly.

“A ticket to where?”

I took a deep breath. “To Disney World,” I blurted out.

“Orlando, Florida? I’ll check,” she said. She glanced over my shoulder and nodded. A policeman stood near the door. I stood up tall. I was sure that there wasn’t a law against going to Disney World, but I began to feel scared that I might be arrested. I turned back to the counter. The woman was staring at me with a cross look on her face.

“Miss?”

“Yes. How much?”

“I just told you the price,” she said in an exasperated voice. “Do you want the ticket or not?”

I glanced back over my shoulder. The policeman was gone.

I felt dizzy. I grabbed on to the counter to steady myself.

“Do you want the ticket or not?” the woman repeated angrily.

My shoulders drooped. “No thanks.” I chickened out. Besides, Disney World was a trip Ma wanted the three of us to take together someday. It wouldn’t have been the same without her and Otis along. I stepped out of line and slowly walked away. I wiped away a tear of frustration as my feet led me out of the bus terminal to the downtown subway station. Ma was depending on me to be cooperative. Not only that— if I ran away, I might never find out what happened to Otis. But there was something I had to do before I went back to that mucus-colored apartment with all its smiley faces. I had made a promise. I had a job to do. I bought another token. Jackson’s house would be only a short ride away. A train came and I hopped in. Soon I was running again, up the stairs and into the sunlit street.

When I arrived at Jackson’s, the second-story blinds were still drawn. I found my way to the backyard stone pile and paused to rest, pressing my back into its cool, sharp edges.
These stones must have seen so much,
I thought,
in this spot for
hundreds of years, ever since a farmer dug them up. The whole
world has changed around them.

I turned and lifted a big flat one from the top of the pile and set it in the middle of the yard. The glass doors flung open and Jackson walked out.

“You’re here earlier than usual,” he said. “How was the weekend?”

“Okay,” I replied, keeping my eyes fixed on the ground.

“You seem kind of low,” Jackson said with concern. “How is Otis? Did something else happen?”

“I missed Ma’s call last night. I guess he’s same-old, same-old,” I mumbled. I swallowed hard and fixed my eyes on the back of the yard. “I’m starting with the stones today.”

“I can’t wait to see what you come up with,” he said in a thoughtful way. I could feel him staring at me. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Fine,” I replied, trying to sound cheerful. The front doorbell rang. “Right on time,” Jackson observed, glancing at his watch. “I’m teaching straight through until twelve. See you!” He went inside, closing the glass doors behind him.

A moment later, I heard sounds of the piano and the off-key voice of a boy struggling with scales. I bent down in front of the pile of stones and hurriedly began to sort through them, trying not to think about the trouble I’d be in when I went back to the boarding home.

I’d never seen so many stones in my life! They were all shapes and sizes. Some were flat and others were nearly round; some had smooth edges and others were jagged. Three at the very bottom were so huge they could almost have been miniature boulders. I’d never be able to move those, no matter how strong I thought I was. I began to play around with the smallest ones. They reminded me of odd-shaped loaves of bread. I began to line them up, side by side and touching, along the edge of the yard where the weeds had once been.…

When I was finished, there was a stone border on three sides! On the fourth side, I created a path with smaller stones lining either side of it. The path started from the tree and led up to the glass doors.

I’d used up lots of stones, but there were still some left. I wiped my face with the tail of my shirt. I’d been working so hard that I’d lost track of time, and the boy who had been singing was long gone. Shari, my favorite soprano, was singing now, a very fast song in a foreign language.

My eyes fell on the flat rock I’d placed in the center of the yard earlier. I made a dash to the pile and plucked off another one, also flat, but a wee bit smaller. I hoisted it back to the center of the yard and placed it on top of the stone on the ground. I made a few more trips like that and kept on stacking. In no time, I had a sculpture. I stepped back to look at it. I’d built a stone person!

I hastily set about building other stone people all over the yard: a tall one next to the tree, a short one by the door, three standing side by side right near the side gate. I almost laughed out loud. There were so many stone people in the yard, it was almost too crowded. Jackson came out, surprising me.

“A sculpture garden!” he cried. “How did you think of that?”

“Haven’t you ever built a snowman?” I said.

“What’s that have to do with it?” said Jackson.

I smiled. “Instead of snowmen, these are
stone
men. I just picked up some stones and kept stacking.”

“I get it,” he said with a chuckle. “But it also reminds me of a miniature Stonehenge!”

“What’s that?”

“Assemblages of gigantic rocks, set up by prehistoric people in England.”

“Wow! I didn’t know I was doing all that!” I said, flushing.

“Seriously, I love it,” he said, touching one of the sculptures. “I can’t believe how much you’ve done in just one morning. The whole stone pile is gone.”

“All except for those three huge ones,” I pointed out. “But we can use them for chairs and a table.”

He smiled broadly. “Speaking of which, it’s twelve o’clock. How about a pizza?”

“Twelve o’ clock?” I started. Angela would be furious! I’d been so involved with the stones, I’d almost forgotten that I’d run away. Would Angela have figured out where I was by now?

“So, how about a pizza?” said Jackson.

My stomach was rumbling.

“Sure, I’ll stay for pizza,” I said hesitantly. I should have told him then, I suppose, about how I wasn’t living at home and about how Angela had said that I couldn’t go to my job, but I couldn’t bear to bring it up. Knowing Jackson, he would have taken me back to the boarding home right away. It might have meant saying good-bye to him forever.

“What a great job you’ve done!” Jackson exclaimed, rubbing his hands together. “As far as I can tell, the yard is finished. Maybe you’ll come over the day Brielle visits. I’d like for her to meet you.”

“I’d like to meet her, too,” I said eagerly, “if I can.…” My voice trailed off.

Jackson went inside to order the pizza, and I wandered around the yard. It certainly did look different from the day that I’d started! I was glad that Jackson was pleased. I liked it, too, but I still wished that the yard had more color. I peeked into the shed, which was a lot emptier than it had been, now that we’d cleaned it out and the Salvation Army had picked up the things we’d decided to give away. But Brielle’s old green tricycle was safe in the back with a few other things that Jackson and I had decided to save. My eye fell on the rainbow-colored hammock, sitting on a shelf. I took it down and hurried across the yard. There was still a hook on the tree and another one on the side of the house! I let the hammock drop open and fastened it up, hooking one end of the rope to the tree and the other end to the house. There were a couple of worn spots in the fabric, but the rainbow colors were wonderful. I sat down in the middle of the hammock to test it. Jackson came out.

“That old thing still works, huh?”

I nodded. “I thought it might come in handy. When Brielle comes, she can take a nap here.”

“Why don’t you?” Jackson said gently. “There are dark circles under your eyes.”

“I am a little pooped,” I confessed.

“Stretch out and rest,” he encouraged. “I’ll wait for the delivery. Would you like a drink?”

“Yes, I’m thirsty,” I told him. I glanced at my arms. “I’m filthy dirty, too. I should wash up.”

“You can do that later on,” said Jackson. “I’ll find you something cold in the refrigerator.”

He disappeared again. I let my head fall back on the hammock and lifted my legs and stretched them out. My body relaxed. The leaves on the limbs above created a canopy. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I wanted things to be different. To be the daughter of somebody who wasn’t crazy, and the sister of somebody who wasn’t in trouble. It was selfish, I know. I loved my family, but just for a minute, I wanted to live in Jackson’s tall brick house. I know it was only a fairy tale, but instead of being Mistress Haley the Gardener, I wanted to be the princess. Or not the princess at all, because that’s not what mattered. I wanted to be Jackson’s daughter, like Brielle.

The next thing I knew, Jackson was shaking my arm.

“Haley, get up.” I heard his voice as if it were far away. “She’s dead to the world.”

I opened my eyes. Jackson was standing over me, and Terry was standing next to him! The blood rushed to my head as I tried to get up.

“Hello, Haley,” she said. I glanced at Jackson guiltily.

“Why didn’t you tell me that you’d been moved to a group boarding home?” Jackson asked.

“I was too busy working,” I said, fumbling for an explanation. “They wanted me to quit my job,” I blurted out. “It isn’t fair!” I climbed out of the hammock and faced Terry.

“You shouldn’t have run away,” said Terry in a clipped voice. “We could have discussed it.”

“Angela didn’t want to discuss it,” I argued. “What are you going to do?” I muttered sarcastically. “Put me in jail like Otis?”

“No one is going to put you anywhere,” said Terry.

“You already have,” I cried. “You made me leave my apartment!”

“Why don’t we sit down?” Jackson suggested, motioning to the big rocks in the back. “Haley’s lunch just arrived. She hasn’t eaten.”

“I could use that cold drink, too,” I griped.

Terry followed Jackson and me to the back of the yard. A pizza box was perched on a rock. Jackson offered me a can of lemonade. I took a big gulp.

“How did you think Angela would feel when she discovered that you’d run away?” Terry asked.

“I didn’t run away,” I said stubbornly. “I could have. But I didn’t. I went to my job.”

“You lied to Angela,” Terry insisted. “You told her that you worked in Queens.”

“Ma knows where I work,” I grumbled. “Eventually, you figured it out.”

“We tried calling your mother,” she said, tapping her foot. “She was having some kind of treatment. She couldn’t talk to us until just a little while ago.”

“What kind of treatment?” I asked in alarm. “Is she all right?”

“She’s fine,” Terry assured me. “But she was sick with worry when she found out that you’d disappeared.”

“But I didn’t disappear!” I said, stamping my foot. “If Ma gets worse, it’ll be your fault for telling her.”

“Don’t you think you’re being a little unreasonable?” Terry said impatiently. “You’re the one who caused all the trouble, Mahalia.”

“I told you I’m sorry! What do you want from me?” Jackson stepped up and touched my arm. “Why don’t you eat your pizza, Haley? I’d like to speak with Terry for a few minutes.”

He gave Terry a nod, and they stepped aside and began walking around the yard. I opened the pizza box and grabbed a slice, keeping my eye on them. How was it that some social worker had control over my life all of a sudden? I hoped Jackson was giving her a piece of his mind! I stuffed down my pizza greedily and took another slice. By the time Jackson and Terry were done talking, I’d finished two more slices, and the two of them were smiling. Circling back in my direction, they stopped in front of me.

“Jackson showed me your nice sculptures,” Terry announced.

“I made the stone borders, too,” I said grudgingly.

She smiled.